


She Might Be Gone (but we're still here)

by AngeNoir



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marking, Omega Verse, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:16:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6577300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan comes home after Jean's death and realizes all is not well with their Fearless Leader. He tries to make it right the only way he knows how - through sex - and oddly enough, it works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Might Be Gone (but we're still here)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zippit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippit/gifts).



> I am not sure where you wanted this to go, so I made my best guess. I hope you like it!

Logan came in the front door and breathed in deeply. It gave him a sense of home, of belonging, and even though it was tinged with bittersweet feelings, with Jean gone – it still was a retreat, a safe place for him.

The school noises welcomed him – listening to the kids yelling back and forth to one another, hearing small feet patter on the floors above, seeing Frisbees and jump ropes dumped in the foyer from someone’s recess and outdoor time – and he closed the doors behind him.

His first stop was the kitchen, grabbing a beer, but a scent made him pause. It was a familiar scent – he’d know it anywhere – but it was… changed.

Jubilation walked into the kitchen and stopped, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Rogue doesn’t know you’re back, huh?” she asked.

Logan grimaced a little. He loved Rogue – and Jubilation – like a kid sister, but last he knew she’d been trying to put moves on him that he wasn’t all that appreciative of. “Just got back,” he grunted, taking another swig of the beer in his hand. “Where’s Slim?”

“He’s been pretty down lately,” Jubilee responded, though her voice was unworried and almost blasé. “He’s probably up in his room, or in the library.”

Charles normally kept a better handle on the kid than that, but perhaps he was too busy himself. Jean, from what Logan understood, had been a fixed point for their little team, their moral compass and the heart that kept them pushing forward. ‘Ro missed her dearly, he knew, and everyone felt her loss keenly, but Logan knew Scott would be the most affected.

They had been, after all, practically mated.

Up the stairs, the scent grew more pronounced, and Logan wondered if he’d have been able to catch other things like this early on – shell shock in the troops, maybe, or guilt. In any case, he felt it was the suddenness of the scent, the returning and seeing just how much the scent changed, that alerted him to it.

He probably hadn’t helped, he thought, mentally sighing. His way of dealing with things had always been to cut and run, travel a bit to get his own head sorted out before trying to actually deal with the situation. Scott needed more than that.

What had been a point of contention and even contempt was now something that pinched Logan keenly, and he put all thoughts of possibly being ignored out of his mind. Scott had never been able to ignore him, always had to respond to everything he said. It was why Logan should have stayed.

He knocked on Scott’s door, and listened to the shift of someone on the bed. When no other sounds came forward, Logan knocked again, harder. “You in there, shades?” he called out.

There was a hitch of breath, an almost angry hiss, and Logan smiled a little, both fond and sad. “C’mon, Slim, you aren’t gonna make me yell this through the door, are ya?”

 _There_ was that angry stomping, that grumble under Scott’s breath, and the door flew open. Logan kept his face devoid of any reaction as he waggled the extra beer can he’d snagged from the kitchen before he’d left it and offered, “You wanna drink?”

Scott didn’t move, those glasses preventing Logan from really seeing the emotions in his face, and then with a heavy sigh Scott took the can out of Logan’s hand and turned on his heel.

He looked a mess – unshaven, smelly, the wrong side of rank. His room looked unkempt, messy, clothes dumped on the floor. Scott was an obsessively neat person – his omega nature, clashing with his desperate need to be absolutely perfect at being a leader, so that no one could devalue his efforts because of his secondary gender – and the state of the room told more about the truth of the heavy depression Logan could smell than anything else.

“Why’re you back, Logan?” Scott rasped, moving over to the bed and slumping down to sit on it, forearms braced on his knees and head hanging low.

Logan considered where he could feasibly fit in the room and finally moved over to sit next to the kid. “Because as much as I needed the space to fix things in my head, I also need a home, and that’s what this place is,” he said simply. “I’m thinking you need a bit more than that, myself.”

“Oh? And what would you know about what I need?” Scott asked, getting his back up.

Logan said nothing, because as much as people thought he liked to start fights, and as much as he loved riling Scott up and watching him pitch a hissy fit like the kitten Scott was, Logan knew now was not the time. “When’s the last time you showered?” he asked.

“You planning on being my mother now?” Scott grumbled.

“You’re the one that’s making the kids worry about you,” Logan said, not above playing dirty tricks to get his way.

For a few minutes, Logan worried he’d have to prod more, and was thinking up something to say before Scott heaved a big, almost grieving, sigh and stood up. “I didn’t even get to drink the beer,” he grumbled, but he moved to the en suite bathroom.

Logan wasn’t just going to leave him to his own devices, but he knew he had to clean the place up a little. All the clothes visible needed a wash, and the room itself was musty. Quickly, he pushed open the window and dumped all the clothes into a hamper before entering the bathroom behind Scott.

Scott had been in the process of stripping out of his clothes and froze, staring at Logan. “What the hell?” he finally asked.

“I could use a shower too,” Logan said, shrugging, and pulled his shirt over his head before staring challengingly at Scott.

A few moments passed, and then Scott let out an annoyed hiss of air and turned his back – giving Logan a perfect view of that pert backside as he stepped out of his boxers and into the shower.

He turned around just as Logan yanked his pants down – no underwear today (because he’d run out, but Logan appreciated the small indrawn breath barely audible as Scott watched him disrobe) – and then Logan was stepping into the shower as well, turning on the water.

“You always shower with those glasses on?” he grunted as he adjusted the temperature and then pulled the lever that turned on the showerhead.

“I… yeah, normally,” Scott said, sounding faintly dazed, and then Logan put a hand on either side of his face – having to reach up to do so, which sucked, but oh well – and forced Scott to look at him.

“I’m gonna take off your shades, alright?”

“What – why are you doing this?” Scott asked, and it was supposed to come out defiant, angry, belligerent – Logan could tell – but instead it came out soft and broken.

“Because you need the helping hand. Because your mate died, and as much as you fight hard to keep the fact that you’re an omega from the team and from your behavior, it’s not something you can just shake off. She was special to you, and the least I can do is help you out. You’d do the same for me, I’d like to think,” Logan said gruffly, trying to keep his own gaze steady when talking about emotions, of all things. “Now, I’m gonna take your glasses off.”

For two or three heartbeats, it looked as if Scott was still going to argue – and, to be fair, Logan was entirely expecting him to argue. But then, with a sigh, he reached up and pulled the glasses off of his face, eyes screwed tightly shut.

 _Everything_ about him was screwed up tightly.

So Logan grumbled under his breath as he set the glasses down on the one (tiny) shelf in the shower, ignoring the fact that he had to balance it on a razor and some feminine-looking thing that was probably Jean’s that Scott still hadn’t cleared from the bathroom. Then he tugged Scott down until Scott’s face was resting in the junction of Logan’s shoulder, and he rubbed his thumbs hard into the tense muscles of Scott’s back.

“I ain’t gonna do anything you absolutely don’t want. But I think you and I, we can work this thing out together,” Logan rumbled, letting the hot water pound over their skin, ignoring the small shudders running through Scott. “You were practically mated. You’ve been on your own so long. Let me do this for you.”

And he wasn’t sure if it was because Logan was an alpha and Scott was an omega, or because Logan was offering and Scott needed it, or that Logan was making himself insistent and Scott was at the end of his rope, but something in Scott relaxed, unclenched. The younger man’s limbs curled around Logan, his lanky form leaning heavily on Logan’s offered shoulder, and he buried his face close by Logan’s bonding glands, sucking in air in what could almost be called a sob if there was any real emotion behind it.

“Thatta boy,” Logan hummed under his breath, awkwardly snagging the first soap that didn’t look girly at all – no need for more reminders – and dumping a glob of it on Scott’s back. Before Scott could twitch at the cold, Logan had his hands up and was gently rubbing it, lathering up Scott’s back and sides, delicately running his hands over Scott’s skin in large swaths. Logan knew you couldn’t lump all omegas together, couldn’t just say ‘oh, omegas needed _X_ after a loss,’ but he knew that grief was eased by touch, and Scott kept himself so aloof he was most likely touch-starved. It was no hardship to move his hands almost hypnotically over Scott’s pale skin, soothing and comforting, warming Scott up and rinsing away the scent of sadness, at least for a little while.

When the hot water and soap had loosened Scott’s muscles, and he was leaning more like  a rag doll on top of Logan instead of like a man desperately searching for support, Logan gently manhandled Scott to turn around, letting Scott tip his head back and rest against his shoulder still – nose still close to Logan’s bonding glands, the alpha scent that Logan knew was pouring off him in waves, the one that kicked the hindbrain into gear and said, ‘let me do this, I got this, let me take care of you.’ Scott’s brow was less furrowed, there were less lines around his eyes, and his breathing was smoothing out into something way more even and gentle, calm. He was still propped up against Logan’s chest, ass pressing against Logan’s hip (and other, slowly-growing-interested-in-the-proceedings, bits of Logan’s anatomy), and Logan took the opportunity to run his soapy hands over Scott’s chest and abdomen, back up to stroke at Scott’s neck, then down to gently tease and tug at Scott’s chubbing cock.

Scott shifted and twitched his hips, a brief grunt escaping his otherwise-pinched lips, and Logan moved his hand, rubbed low along Scott’s abdomen instead. He was going to relax Scott, here and in bed if he could get away with it, but he was going to ease the kid into it first. Slowly, he backed up until he could press his back against the shower wall opposite the spray, and the cold tile quickly heated against Logan’s back. Then, he tilted Scott’s head even further back and gently rubbed the bit of soap left on his hands – who the fuck cared it was just body soap, soap was soap – through Scott’s hair, making sure to stroke deep over the scalp. Nothing calmed people down – alpha, beta, omega, you name it – than a nice head scratch.

More tension left Scott’s face, and he shifted a little, tilting his body more towards Logan, parting his lips to breathe hot air over Logan’s neck and turning into Logan’s body, taking more weight on his own legs. Figuring that it was a good time, Logan took a short step forward, and then twisted them, pressed Scott against the now-warm tiles and let the wall hold Scott up.

Scott frowned, but without his glasses he couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t keep track of what Logan was doing. He made a questioning grunt, starting to reach out to Logan, and Logan took hold of his hands. “Nah, kid. I’m just gonna suck your dick, okay? I want you to enjoy it. I want you to calm down.”

The kid’s hands paused, and then Scott furrowed his brow even more. “You’re an alpha.”

Logan bit back his first sarcastic response and settled on, “I know that.”

“Alphas don’t do oral on other genders. Not unless they’re part of an alpha-alpha pairing,” Scott said.

The fact that Scott’s voice was confused rather than mocking or derisive kept Logan from putting his hackles up and getting defensive. Instead, he laughed and let his nose rub against Scott’s upper thighs. “You must not have been around pretty good alphas, then.”

Scott’s shoulders tensed a fraction, head dropping. “S’why I – I really liked Jean, you know? She was – she was amazing. A great beta. The best partner I could ask for.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Logan murmured, putting his idea of sex on hold. He petted Scott’s leg, offering comfort.

“I just – I think we could have made something together,” Scott whispered, tilting his head back, heedless of the water that streamed over his chest and splashed against his face. “Not just – all three of us. Could have, if I had been less of a dick. She died while we were fighting.”

“She knew you loved her,” Logan said quietly. “There was never any doubt about that.”

Suddenly, Scott’s hands dropped down to the top of Logan’s head. “Thank you, Logan.”

Logan pushed up from the ground and crowded in front of Scott, murmuring reassurances under his breath. “It’s fine, Scott, it’s fine. I get why you’re upset. But you need to continue your life. You didn’t die there.”

Scott let out a soft, almost broken laugh. “I feel – I feel this would go better if I could actually see you.”

“C’mon, kid, I got you relaxed and everything and you’re tensing up again,” Logan grumbled, but he tugged Scott under the shower head and made sure the soap was entirely off before turning off the water.

“I just – I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy with this. With you,” Scott said suddenly, as Logan stepped away to grab Scott the glasses and a towel. “I – thank you, for the shower. For getting me off my ass.”

Grabbing the fluffiest towel on the rack, Logan slung it around Slim’s shoulders and rubbed. “Don’t mention it, bub,” he grunted, doing a rough rubdown of himself as Scott put the glasses on. “Get into bed. Get some _rest_. And then some sun. It’s impossible to be down when the kids are throwing Frisbees and hit you in the head.”

Scott followed Logan out of the bathroom, and as Logan dragged on his pants, he could hear Scott climbing into bed. But when Logan went for Scott’s door, Scott let out a soft sound.

Logan turned and looked at Scott, who was both red in the cheeks, but sitting upright, leaning forward. “Something the matter?” he asked.

“I don’t – I don’t want you to go. Please,” Scott said in a rush. “I would like – for you to stay. To—” and here the blush deepened, “—to continue.”

It was odd, but Logan wasn’t going to ignore Scott, especially if he was being verbal about something when he normally didn’t say a thing. Shrugging, he kicked his pants off again and moved over to the bed. “You sure about this?”

Scott mumbled something that was too indistinct and slurred for Logan to really understand.

“You’re gonna have to repeat that, Slim.”

“I said, today was the first day I got hard since… you know,” Scott said, only marginally clearer than before.

Logan weighed his options in his mind. He could do this, and there shouldn’t be any ill effects or bad results, at least none that he could think of right now. And honestly, Logan himself found losing himself in someone’s body to be both easier and simpler. It meant that there were sensations other than crushing pain or loneliness, or even anger.

“Alright,” he mumbled roughly, crawling into bed and on top of Scott. “You gotta let me take care of you, though. Okay?”

“Okay,” Scott said, and he sounded shaky and uncertain, but he’d asked. Logan paused anyway, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he leaned down carefully and slotted his mouth on top of Scott’s.

The kiss was nothing more than chaste, calm, done in a way that was more testing than anything. Then Scott made a hungry noise and opened his lips, and Logan fell into his mouth, drowned in taste and sensation. Scott was eager – almost overeager, in some cases, and Logan wondered if it was simply because of how long it had been since Jean had died, or if there was some other reason there.

With careful, guiding hands, Logan smoothed down Scott’s hair, ran his fingers down the center of Scott’s chest and pulled away the towel that had been slung there in the brief walk between the bathroom and the bed. Scott’s cock was half-hard again, and Logan decided that if Scott had never had a blowjob from an alpha, it was definitely time to correct that.

Moving down Scott’s body, Logan lapped and nipped at the sensitive flesh, pale and soft, before letting his tongue dance over the head of Scott’s dick. Before Scott could question it, Logan sucked in, slow and deep, using skills he hadn’t used in years to take Scott’s cock fully into his mouth for a few heartbeats before pulling off, sucking and laving the whole way.

Scott arched his back like he was attached to a livewire, gasping, hands twitching uselessly against his side as he alternatively threw his head back and tilted his head down to try and watch everything Logan was doing.

“Put your hands on my head, kid. You’re not gonna hurt me,” Logan rumbled, nosing at the base of Scott’s dick again, licking and wetting the area. For a blowjob, that would work, but they’d need actual slick and probably a condom to go any further – but he’d see where Scott wanted this to go.

As it was, Scott only tentatively placed his hands on the top of Logan’s head; Logan paused to reposition Scott’s hands, let them grip tight around the side of Logan’s head, and then he took Scott’s cock back down his throat, gave Scott the best blowjob he could.

And Scott definitely wasn’t complaining; his hands fisted in Logan’s hair, and he was practically pulling Logan’s head down his cock – and Logan had to smile at that, at this little fighting, spitting kitten – as he gasped and moaned, red lips in an o-shape that made Logan think about reciprocation.

For another time, maybe, if Scott wanted this to continue.

Moving one of his hands down Scott’s thigh, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the sensitive skin there, and Scott shuddered when Logan’s fingers moved closer to Scott’s balls, his ass. It was just gentle pressure, cupping and cradling Scott’s balls, rubbing along the rim of Scott’s ass, but it had Scott shooting in Logan’s mouth, a high-pitched keen vibrating in his chest.

Logan pulled away, and Scott lay on the bed like a starfish, sweat drenching his upper body and looking thoroughly ravished, and he smirked to himself. “Mine,” he murmured, placing a hand possessively over Scott’s lower abdomen and pressing a little, making his presence known. “At least for tonight, but kid, you’re beautiful, and I’d love to keep you.”

Scott’s head shifted, tilting so that he was fully facing Logan. “If you can handle me,” he said pointedly, thought he challenging effect was ruined a bit by the sleepy, slurred words.

Logan chuckled and made to stand up, but Scott gripped his wrist.

“I’m just going for some slick, kid,” Logan murmured. “I don’t know how much you want or what, but I figure anything else will need that.”

Instead of directly answering, Scott fumbled boneless limbs awkwardly around, until he managed to make it onto his front. Then he arched his back and raised his ass, head flat against the pillows, presenting his hole in the most enticing manner Logan could imagine.

“Goddamn,” Logan growled, and he stumbled into the bathroom, hastily looking for any kind of supplies – and found some, in the bottom of the cabinet. Snatching one of the condom packets and the lube, he came back to see Scott rolling his hips, one hand fondling his still soft dick, and the other hand pressing a finger against his hole.

“Look at your needy self,” he said in a deep growl, possessiveness coming back in full force. “Such a pretty boy, ain’tcha?”

“Tired of waiting for an old man,” Scott grunted, but the corner of his mouth was twitching up.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it?” Logan asked, grinning, and he expertly ripped the condom open, slid the plastic over his hard dick. “ _My_ little needy boy.”

“Not yours yet,” Scott grumbled, and Logan grabbed Scott’s wrists, placed them on Scott’s own ankles, and then gave a light slap to Scott’s ass.

“Raise it up, omega, present your pretty hole for me.”

With a groan, Scott’s fingers tightened on his ankles and he dropped his lower back and pushed out his ass, creating a curve that perked that hole right open. Squirting lube in his hand – Scott wasn’t in a heat, so it wasn’t as if he’d be making slick for his ass right now – Logan rubbed a thick finger over that delicate rim.

Scott grumbled under his breath again.

“What was that?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Twisting his head a little so it wasn’t muffled by the pillows, Scott repeated, “You take forever, old man.”

Logan let out a deep growl and, coating one finger entirely in slick, pushed inside Scott’s body.

He was tight, and hot, and clenched up. It’d been a long while, maybe even never, since he’d had a nice alpha dick up that hole, and Logan exerted steady pressure, even as Scott began to squirm and wriggle. “Easy, easy kid, calm down, Slim, you’re good,” Logan murmured, pressing in the last knuckle and watching his pointer sink fully into that round ass. “Look, you did it, yeah?” He moved his finger slightly, rubbing it along the inside of Scott’s ass, hooking his finger down to put some pressure on Scott’s prostrate, and Scott moaned.

It took a bit for Scott to unclench, to loosen a little, enough for there to be give for Logan to slide his finger out more, and then push it back in, over and over, moving rougher with each movement, until his finger slid easily back and forth with no resistance.

Scott was moaning and grunting wordlessly, hips jerking, and his cock was desperately trying to become hard again. Logan looked down at his begging omega as he coated another finger and recoated the first and said, “We’re gonna do two now.”

“You go – so – _slow_ ,” Scott gasped, hair damp with sweat and sticking to the back of his neck.

Logan had been called worse in his life; he made Scott wait it out, watched Scott go from challenging and daring him and taunting to begging and pleading to wordless keens and gasps as Logan slid three fingers in and out with ease, stretching them out to push against that soft velvety inside.

Then, he pulled his fingers out, drizzled more slick, this time on his dick, and kneeled up to press the head of his cock inside that tight ring of muscle.

Scott let out a wordless shout, ass tensing and then relaxing as he fought to let Logan fully inside, but Logan just kept up inexorable pressure, pushing down and in, not giving Scott a chance to push back, until he was fully seated and Scott was speared on his dick.

He leaned down over Scott’s arched back, one hand slinging low to grip Scott’s gut and brush the back of his hand against Scott’s bounding, now-fully-hard, cock. “You take my cock so prettily, you know. Almost like you were born to be mine.”

“ _Fuck_ – you,” Scott gasped, but it sounded more like a plea than an actual curse, more like Scott was arguing for the sake of arguing than anything else, so Logan just chuckled in Scott’s ear.

“More like, I’m fucking _you_ ,” Logan pointed out, and he sat back to pull his dick partway out before thrusting it back in again, ramming it home.

Scott yelped, his thighs quivering, one hand going for his dick, and Logan grabbed it, pinned his hand to the bed. “Nuh-uh,” he said breathlessly, pulling out and thrusting again. “You can come from hanging off of my dick, and that’s what you’re gonna do.”

“Logan, please, _please_ —” Scott whimpered, shoving his elbow into the bed to bare his neck. “Please, let me, I’m yours, just let me come—”

And rationally, Logan knew they’d need to have a discussion about that, need to seriously talk about everything, make sure they were all on the same page, but right now he leaned forward aggressively, hips slapping against Scott’s ass as he sunk his teeth into Scott’s shoulder, bit down to create a hickey. Not a bonding bite – not without a lot of talk first – but as good as, making his intentions clear.

Scott wailed and struggled under Logan, trying to reach for his dick, and Logan leaned up as high as he could go and then thrust _down_ at an angle, stroking that pressure point as best as he could, and Scott convulsed, dick spurting weakly onto the bed.

The sight of it, the smell of Scott’s cum, hell, the knowledge that _Logan_ had done that – Logan let out a deep growl and thrust like his life depended on it, coming less than a minute later before slumping down on top of Scott’s back.

Scott let out a contented hum and wiggled a little under Logan’s weight.

For a second, Logan stayed there, letting Scott feel his weight, the almost literal weight of his protection and care, and so he could feel the steadiness, the calmness, of Scott’s heartbeat. The man didn’t smell as sick, as tired, and Logan hoped that they could move on from this, move on together.

For right now, though, Logan let out a sigh and pulled out slowly, easing his way, and peeled off the condom. He made his way back to the bathroom, dumped the slick on the side of the sink and trashed the rubber, before grabbing a washcloth.

Scott had rolled in the bed, curling up in an almost fetal position, and Logan cleaned the sheets as best he could before climbing in behind him, curling around him.

They’d get through this. They’d weather this storm, and come out the stronger.


End file.
